


Phoenix: a Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfiction

by TheTruthOfYourDespair



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Adventure, Alchemy, Death, F/M, Friendship, Ishval, Love, OC, OCs - Freeform, Romace, The Promised Day, Violence, battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 17:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthOfYourDespair/pseuds/TheTruthOfYourDespair
Summary: Valentia Harkness: State Alchemist, origins unknown, served in the Ishvalan War, extremely dangerous, and running from her demons.• • •For years, Valentia has been living with a curse. It marks her arms, it burdens her existence, and is a ticking time bomb. Someday, she will die, unless a cure can be found. Despite living in fear of her imminent death, Valentia also sees her 'guardian angels'- a man and woman whose identities are undisclosed.Dark forces and powerful alchemy are the only things standing in the way of finding a cure and with the end of humanity looming over their shoulders, Valentia, the Elric brothers, and her military colleagues have to find a way of stopping evil, or die trying...





	1. Prologue

"She's dangerous, sir. You can't possibly want her to come here!"

"Exactly. You saw her in Ishval. No mercy..."

"It's a bad idea, sir. Really bad."

"I don't care. I want this woman found. The Führer himself has ordered it, and if you all don't go now then all of our heads will be on the line."

"Yes, sir!"

After a very reluctant salute, the group of soldiers left knowing they couldn't disobey the higher-ups, and then letting their commanding officer sink into his chair with relief. 

"Maybe they're right, Lieutenant Colonel," the blonde woman said, clutching paper files in her arms. "She won't come easily, and will surely put up a fight."

"But you and I know how to deal with her better than anybody," Mustang said. "Isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

"Of course, sir. And what about her State Alchemist's license? Didn't that expire just a few months ago?"

"Yes, and that's why she's being brought in," he explained, lacing his fingers together and placing them on the desk. "She'll retake the assessment because the Führer wants her and her alchemical abilities in his arsenal, as do I. She's valuable, and she can't hide any longer."

Hawkeye nodded in understanding. "It wouldn't happen to be anything to do with personal matters, would it?"

"Not at all," his answer wasn't quite honest. Mustang would have to lie to his subordinate just this once, but he had promises to keep and one lie wouldn't get in the way.

• • • 

"Hey, come on, that's not fair. I had it first!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Stop it, the both of you. I've had enough of your bickering."

"But mum!"

The agony of the gash over her eye stung as she ran. She was temporarily blinded, but she had to keep running. There was no question about it. Run, and she lived. Stop, and she died. 

"You're not coming with me too. It's too dangerous. Hawkeye's already refused to obey, and I can't have you doing so as well."

"That's makes two of us disobeying then. Deal with it, Roy. I'm following you to that battlefield, and I'm not backing down."

"Fine, but promise me you won't die."

"Only if you promise not to die either."

Childhood memories. The flashbacks from Ishval. They all danced in her mind, somewhat a distraction from reality. 

White hot pain stung her hands like electricity. The fire was graceful, intricately carving transmutation circles of burns and blood into the backs of them. 

"What on earth are you doing?!"

"Saving our lives."

"By trying to kill me?"

"It's the only way. Trust me on this; we need to work together."

She paused abruptly, adjusting her coat hood over her head. She then stared down gravely at the transmutation scars on her hands; they'd healed now and were still the perfect weapons for battle. Except, this wasn't her specialty and didn't know much about flame alchemy, so she was stuck with useless weaponry for now. 

She reached up to touch the skin that surrounded her left eye, bloodied and red. A permanent scar would show up in another few weeks time, and she anticipated the horror she'd have to face when that time came. 

Those damn Ishval and military bastards. Damn them for ruining her appearance. Damn them for ruining her mind.

But where now?

She couldn't go back to Eastern HQ, and she couldn't go back to Central.

"Looks like I'll just have to find somewhere to go," she mumbled to herself, attempting to push away the pain to the back of her mind.

She carried on running, although she had no energy left inside her. She hadn't eaten for days. But she had no choice but to keep on pushing forward. Until she was safe, safe from them...


	2. One: Face the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...it's this, or become the monster among us..."

Blood. 

The smell of iron and death was potent, its aroma filling the atmosphere. It was pitch-black, dingy, and the sound of water droplets falling from a height gracelessly splattered against the floor. 

Blood. 

The smell became stronger and it was all she could think of. No happy memories, no thought pattern, just blood. 

Voices. I hear voices. 

It was true. At least three voices, all male, could be faintly heard from outside of the room; outside of the cell. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

A painful creek echoed through the room, giving way to a flash of bright light that burned her eyes, which were too used to the darkness. 

Her eyes then began to focus on the blurs of blue that entered the cell. Footsteps approached, and as her gaze fixated on the man in the middle- the one with the eyepatch. 

"So, you're finally awake," he said coolly. 

She didn't answer. She couldn't answer. The pain in her ankles was too much, the shackles were too tight and they cut into her leg. The pain around her eye was till there too, even after all this time. 

Maybe the smell of blood isn't just my own. Maybe other people have died in here. 

"Good," he continued as if she had replied, then turning to the other two men, presumably military men. "Take this woman to the barracks and get her a fresh set of clothes. She needs to look presentable."

What she had to look presentable for wasn't specified. One military officer unlocked the chains binding her ankles, and both helped the woman to her feet. She felt the one-eyed gaze of the man follow her as the officers led her out of the hell-hole that she had called home for God knows how long. Something wasn't right about him. Something...

Later that morning, the woman had showered and dressed into a set of immaculately clean uniform, while her room had been guarded by the same military officers that had dragged her here. Her chocolate-coloured eyes had gotten used to the light, and she found it rather refreshing to see clearly again. 

The acts on her hands seemed more bold than ever, but she must be imagining things, right? She couldn't be thinking straight. 

"What did you do to get into this mess?"

She swiftly turned her head away from the scars to see a woman sat on the bottom bunk of the nearest bed. She was clad in a white lace dress that made her look very beautiful with a pair of similar coloured small heeled shoes. Her eyes were filled with concern, and staring softly. 

"It was my own fault, Louisa," she said, glad to see one of her 'guardian angels'. "I couldn't face the truth and I ran. Look where it got me; the Führer's going to have my head on a spike."

The woman named Louisa laughed. "I'm sure that's not true. The military needs you, dear, and you need them."

The younger woman knew that Louisa was right, and she knew that she was referring to her friends and colleagues Maes, Roy, Riza, and Atticus: the four people who had helped her through thick and thin. 

"That's the only reason why I'm going through with it," she explained, looking back to her scars. "And once I'm done here today, I'm going to-"

"Hey, girl?" One of the officers called from outside of the room, rudely interrupting her conversation. "Are you ready yet?"

"Yeah," she replied bluntly, turning her gaze away from her hands and then grabbing her coat. She slipped it on, fixing up the collar, making her way out of the room. She didn't appreciate being called 'girl' by some subordinate either; the disrespect was blatant. 

"Come with us."

She followed the military officers down the corridor. It was quiet, but the sound of their boots pounding against the floor made things seem all about order, discipline, and fear. Their quick pace matched that of the woman's heartbeat as she trailed behind, hands in her coat pockets, and the fringe of her chestnut-brown hair sweeping across one side of her forehead made her become distracted. 

I don't want to be here. I've got things to do. It's been weeks, months, and I've gotten nowhere. 

The military officers paused outside of a set of doors. They were large, made of steel and had patterned doorknobs. They opened them, revealing the man with the eyepatch stood with another set of officers, some of high ranking. Now that the woman could see and think properly, she recognised him as the Führer King Bradley, the ruler of Amestris. 

His one dark-blue eye stared at the woman as she entered the room. He was stood proud and sturdy, his hands rested upon the handle of his sword as its tip balanced on the ground. His black hair and moustache were extremely kemp and added to his stern appearance.

Another man stood to his right. A familiar man, the most recognisable, with short, black hair and cold, brown eyes watched the woman intently. 

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang, she thought darkly. 

"Welcome, Valentia Harkness," Bradley began, addressing his men to her as well. "To your State Alchemist assessment-"

"I don't want this," she cut in, feeling a pulsating pain in her ankles. 

"If you want to live, then I suggest complying," his tone was firm and intimidating. 

She swallowed, stressed and anxious. Well, what other choice do I have? It's this or die. It's become a dog of the military or face the devil himself. It's this or become the monster among us...


End file.
